


Just Your Friendly Neighborhood Super Nerd

by SleeplessInGeneral



Category: Sanders Sides, Thomas Sanders
Genre: Human AU, M/M, Picani is the best uncle ever, Thomas and his friends aren't here yet for reasons, Tiny Logan, Virgil is a good big brother, things aren't very nice, things might change, tiny Patton, you could call this angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-06
Updated: 2018-05-14
Packaged: 2019-04-19 10:40:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14235504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SleeplessInGeneral/pseuds/SleeplessInGeneral
Summary: It's not exactly a very sure thing that, at twelve years old, Patton Graham and Logan Carter would become fast friends. But maybe, just maybe.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> As are most of my fanfics for this fandom, this was originally posted on tumblr (fluidityandgiggles).
> 
> I have no idea if this story even classifies as angst, but for my standards, it is. My wife says it is. So there's that. But what's sure is that it is not happy and I don't have any plans to make this happy, at least not for the time being.
> 
> So for now, at least... allons-y!

Patton’s favorite part of the day was getting to go to the community center and paint with Roman. Virgil took him there every day, and Roman was always there, teaching drama and painting classes for the extra cash. And every day before class, Roman and Patton would sit next to the piano and just… talk. About everything.

Some would say Patton was a bit too old, at twelve years old, for this sort of thing. But it was better than being home.

“You’ve been coming here every day for the past three years, kiddo,” Roman told him one day as he ruffled his hair. “Are you sure everything’s okay?”

“I’m sure.”

Roman, at twenty-four, was the greatest guy Patton knew. Aside for his brother Virgil. A not so recent AMDA graduate, Roman taught drama and painting at the community center as well as auditioning to any productions he could. Patton hoped Virgil would be a bit more like that. After graduating from the University of Florida with a degree in chemical engineering, it was as if Virgil just… lost his interest in life.

Roman, though… Roman made everything better. At least for now.

“So… no dragon witches I need to eliminate for you?”

“No! Everything is totally fine!” Everything was not totally fine. Patton and Virgil’s mother started smoking again, which meant Patton had to move in with Virgil. Patton needed new lenses in his glasses and braces. Their uncle Emil was still battling CPS for custody over Patton. Virgil’s job was soul-sucking and so very tiring. Not to mention everything else. “Hey, Roman?”

“Yes, Patton?”

“Do you know why flamingoes sleep with their leg up?”

“In order to preserve body heat,” a new voice said from behind them. “Putting both legs in the water would draw away more body heat.”

“…what?”

“It’s simple, really.” The new voice - a young brunette boy with glasses and millions of freckles - looked everywhere but at Patton. “It’s like when-“

“Well Patton, why do flamingoes sleep with their leg up?” Roman raised an eyebrow.

“Because if they raised both legs, they would fall off!”

* * *

 

Logan’s parents were both professors in Georgetown. His father taught biology. His mother taught linguistics. Alexandria was a very nice place to live in. When Logan was five his family moved there from Ann Arbor, after being offered new teaching positions and leaving the University of Michigan.

And then Logan’s grandmother in Gainesville got a bit worse, and they had to move to Florida.

His father promised that it wouldn’t be so bad, and that Gainesville was a great place, but other than that the University of Florida was there, Logan wasn’t so sure. New things scared him. And he couldn’t explain it.

“That… that didn’t make sense.” The blond boy in the blue shirt tilted his head to the side and squinted at Logan.  _You’re trying to make friends, Logan, don’t mess this up_. “Why would flamingoes-“

“It was a joke… hey, you know how birds fly in a V-formation, but one side is always longer than the other? Why is that?”

“Well, probably some evolutionary thing-“

“Because there are more birds on that side!” The ginger was laughing again. And the boy was back to looking at him… weird.

“Why… what is that…”

“Hey, do your socks have holes in them?”

“Of course not! What sort of a question-“

“Then how’d you get your feet in them?”

“Hey, Patton, stop harassing everyone!” A guy in a black and purple hoodie came to the piano. “Remy said you shouldn’t do that anymore.”

“Shouldn’t doesn’t mean can’t.” The boy - Patton? - punched the man with black and purple hair. “And I wasn’t harassing! I was just telling jokes.”

“Sure you are. Come on, class isn’t starting yet and you need to eat. Remy offered to pay.” The man grabbed Patton and nudged towards the exit.

And then it was just Logan and the ginger at the piano.

“I… don’t believe I’ve ever met you before.” And then he extended a hand. “Hi. I’m Roman, Roman Prince, I… work here, I guess you could say.”

“I’m Logan,” the answer came, and nothing to follow. Logan didn’t even shake his hand. Shaking hands meant something was going to go wrong for sure. He knew from experience.

“Logan… and where are you headed, young hero?” The ginger broke in a wicked smile. “Off to defeat some monsters, or rescue a princess?”

…what?

“I’m just… looking for Virgil Graham’s class…”

“Ah! The dwelling of the warlock. I shall take you there, then.”

“If you could please stop that-“

“Fear not, brother, for I shall guide you on your way to meet with the warlock!”

His parents were not going to be happy with this.

* * *

 

Virgil became Patton’s primary caregiver when he was five.

No, screw that, since he was born.

There was a fine line between sustaining your children and entertaining yourself, and their mother clearly did not know where it crossed.

“I’m really trying, Virgil.” Patton was not allowed to be sad. Virgil was messed up enough for both of them. “I don’t harass people, I swear!”

“I know. I… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.” Patton looked in his lap. It was never a good sign. “Uncle Emil is… fighting. And it’s scaring me.”

“It’s scaring me too.”

“You know I’m doing everything for your good, Pat. Right?” Patton nodded. “So… so.”

“My fair prince, I have come to rescue you from the hands of the evil warlock!” Roman opened the door to the room with a bang, holding the hand of a kid about Patton’s age. “Come, Prince Patton! We shall return to the mission at hand!”

“Oh, and how would you do it, your highness?” Virgil spit back.

“Simple. Warlock, this is Sir Logan. He has been looking for you. I will exchange you him for the young prince.”

“Let me see about that… no.”

“Virgil, we’ve been over this-“

“Just… give us a minute. Okay? I promise everything is okay.” Roman sighed and it made Virgil just feel… uncomfortable. “I promise, Roman. It’s family business.”

“…okay. But just one minute. I’m timing you.”

And so he left, counting out loud. As Roman always did. And Virgil was left to try and talk to his brother.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was complete at two in the morning while listening to PMJ. Yes, I know, I should be going to sleep already.
> 
> Fair warning for all y'all, Patton and Virgil's mom isn't nice. And believe me when I say there's a reason Virgil's last name is Sanders. And that's all I'm gonna say about that.
> 
> And for now, allons-y!

Virgil Sanders-Graham was a great teacher and a fantastic break from all the crazy Logan’s been put through earlier with Roman Prince.

The way he talked about science was… fascinating. Logan always loved science, of course, but he never met anyone who felt so strongly about it like him, and their two-hour long tutoring session was more like a scholarly banter than an actual tutoring.

In fact, it ended in Virgil saying “you already know all this, why do you need tutoring?”

“Because I’m going to start middle school soon.”

“Oh. Good. My brother too.”

“Your brother, Mr. Graham?”

“Call me Virgil. My brother, Patton. I think you met him. Light brown hair, glasses, cat hoodie.”

“Oh. Yeah.” So he wasn't blond. Well, he seemed like it.

This was the extent of their conversation. A couple awkward silence-filled minutes later and the sound of a very specific young boy filled the room again.

“Virgil! Virgil Virgil Virgil! Look! I have a tattoo now!” Patton was running towards the purple-haired man, not caring for what’s in his way. “I drew it myself! It’s washable though. But it’s my tattoo!” He ran right into Virgil, hugging him tight. “I’m really proud of it.”

“I’m glad you’re proud of it, Pat. When is Emil coming to pick you up?”

“Pick me up…?”

“I’m staying in later, Pat. You have to go with Emil.”

This whole dynamic was… interesting, to say the least. Patton - not as blond as Logan thought, perhaps it was the light - was far too energetic to be Virgil’s brother, in Logan’s opinion.

“But I miss you…” Patton sniffled into Virgil’s hoodie.

“I miss you too. You have no idea how much.”

“Excuse me, but would you like me to leave you two alone?” Virgil nodded, still holding Patton close. And Logan… didn’t really leave.

He just went to sit outside of the class, to wait until Virgil was free again.

* * *

 

“Patton, I’m sorry. It’s not my decision.”

Patton hated that sentence. It meant Virgil was giving up. Not on Patton, but rather on trying to understand. Patton knew it rather well by now.

“But you’ll get to hang with Emil, right? And I’ll see you for dinner.”

“I hate it.”

“I hate it too. But just a little more. Just until Mom is out of our life.”

The butterfly that Patton drew on his hand suddenly felt very noticeable. He had to let go. He had to go.

“Your tattoo is very good, kiddo.”

“…thanks.”

He ran out of there. He had to. Everything was itchy and loud and he could feel everything pressing down on him. It wasn’t unusual, but it was uncomfortable. Nothing new. Virgil got that feeling too sometimes, that form of anxiety that just wouldn’t let go.

Nothing was okay. He did not want to go with Emil, and he did not want to feel this way. But he had to, and he did.

“Hey there, Steven!” The familiar cheery voice of his uncle never failed to break his trance. “How was your day today, kid?”

“His name is Patton,” a voice from behind Patton said.  _Oh._  It was that new kid. Dr. Emil Picani still laughed.

“And what’s your name, Connie?”

“…Logan. Please stop giving people names. That’s rude.”

Emil laughed again, and it made Patton… somewhat less uneasy. “I don’t just give people names, Logan! I give people nicknames! That’s all.”

Patton took the time to look at his uncle properly.  _Five things you can see._

“Your tie… it’s pink today… the floor… trees… my shoes… Logan’s shoes…”

_Four things you can feel._

“My tattoo… my cat hoodie… my bag…” Something was placed in his hands. “A plushie…”

_Three things…_  “…you can hear.” It sounded a lot like Logan.

“Logan’s voice… birds… cars…”

“Two things you can smell,” Logan kept going.

“My cat hoodie… it smells like Virgil… and the grass.”

“One thing you can taste.”

“Jelly.”

“When’d you have jelly, Patton?” Emil asked.

“Roman gave me half of his sandwich. Peanut butter and jelly.” He then turned to look at Logan. The brunet boy with a blue necktie looked much different in daylight than he did under the fluorescent lights of the community center. “You know mindfulness?”

“I tend to disassociate at times, so I learned it in order to bring me back to reality.”

“Oh. Cool. I just have anxiety.”

“Hey Logan, wanna join us for lunch? We’re going to get burgers, and then get Patton to his appointment.” Emil was smiling. Nothing new there.

“I… don’t know. I don’t know you guys.”

“But you know Virgil, and you’re new, and I’m your friend now because no one likes being new anywhere without friends, so you do know us guys!”

Logan seemed somewhat confused. “We’re friends…?”

“If you wanna be.”

* * *

 

Haley Reinhart’s cover of Black Hole Sun was blaring through the car’s sound system and Roman never understood why Virgil loved listening to music that loudly in the car. Ever since he got his license.

“Virgil, we have to talk,” Roman shouted for the third time already, causing Virgil to lower the volume -  _finally_  - and turn his head to him, even if only slightly.

“What is there to talk about, Princey? I’m driving you home, just like every other day.”

“How’s Patton?” Virgil tensed up visibly. Roman changed the song to No One Mourns The Wicked. “He didn’t stay today.”

“He had an appointment. That’s all.”

“That’s not all. An appointment is not just ‘all’, Virgil. It never is.”

“…I don’t know. I’m not Patton. You’ll see him tomorrow anyway, why not ask him then?”

“Because I trust you to answer me.” Virgil was a manic driver when anxious. Roman should’ve learned his lesson. “I’m sorry, Virge. Didn’t mean it.”

“I know you didn’t, Princey.”

“Is your mother working tonight?”

“When is she not?”

“Just… don’t freak yourself out if she does. I’ll check on you. I promise.”

The rest of the ride went smoothly, and when Virgil dropped Roman off at home he kissed the emo’s cheek and left without a word. Virgil preferred it this way, especially on nights when he had to moonlight. He could see his mom through the kitchen window.

Maybe coming in from the back wasn’t such a bad idea today. Sadly his mom noticed him too.

“Roman, honey! Come help me, you’ve always been a better cook than me!” Dot Prince snorted her usual laugh and hugged her son when he came through the door. “I’m trying to figure out this recipe, and- Roman, baby, are you okay?”

_No._  “Yes.”  _I don’t know what I’m doing._  “Everything’s okay. What do you need help with?”

“Oh no. No, no, this will not pass, Roman Julius Prince, you will tell me what’s wrong right now! The pasta can wait!”

“No, mom… the pasta really can’t wait. The pot will boil over if you forget about it.”

“We’ll burn that bridge when we cross it. Now, sit down and tell your mom what’s going on.”

And tell her he did.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well... it was about damn time.
> 
> Quick warning to y'all, Pat and Virge's mother makes an appearance in this one. And she's not nice. That's to put it lightly. To put it heavier, no twelve-year old ever should know what a john is.
> 
> For now, enjoy. Allons-y!

Patton and Emile were cuddling on the couch with Daisy, the puppy Patton got for his birthday in January, watching Steven Universe, when Virgil got home.

The look on his face alone clearly meant ‘leave me alone or I’ll kill you’.

“Rough day, kiddo?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Will you join us for the marathon before going to work, then?”

“I can’t… I have to sleep. I’m sorry. Maybe tomorrow.”

If there was one thing Emile wanted to do at that moment, it was to tear Virgil’s door off its hinges. There was no knowing with Virgil. He’s always been a weird kid, ever since he was born. It was only in recent years that he actually considered getting professionally diagnosed, and the results weren’t surprising, but they certainly didn’t make things easier. If anything, they just made everything much, much more nightmarish for the poor boy.

Emile knew he tried hiding that from Patton. And that Patton would never tell anyone, but he already knows.

A few hours later, when Patton was already asleep and Virgil was getting ready to go out, the front door started creaking.

“I thought I asked you to never come here again. Have you absolutely no shame, Rachel?”

For the past five years, Emile has been trying to keep his sister away from his family. Her whole being was once the center of his world, but by now has faded to nothingness.

“I want to see my kids, don’t be ridiculous, Millie.”

“I’ll be as ridiculous as I want to be because you haven’t raised them. They are not your kids.”

“Now you’re just being childish. I did absolutely nothing-“

“Oh, you’re right. You didn’t do anything. Which is why I’m raising your children for you, Rachel. Does this make any sense to you? That I raise your kids for you? Because it doesn’t to me. But unlike you, I care for those kids.”

The look on the woman’s face could be described as sad. Emile thought of it as pitiful.

“You don’t even know-“

“What don’t I know, huh? The sacrifices you made for them? The effort you’re making to this day? Save me the sob story. You have done absolutely nothing and I am done talking about this. Leave me alone, leave Virgil alone, I know you’ve been harassing him on the phone, and most of all, leave Patton alone. He’s twelve. He should not be raised like that. He should not have to go through the same things I went through when you raised me, you insolent-“

“Mom?”

And there was Patton, smile wide, jumping in excitement.

“Hey, baby. How are you?”

“Go to sleep, Patton, we have a long day tomorrow.”

“Are you going to see a john tonight, mom?”

Never a question any twelve-year old should ask.

“Patton, to your room. Now.”

* * *

 

“Here, have some liquid life.” Virgil had a hot cup shoved in his hand the moment his head started feeling heavy. “Can I make an assumption?”

“Thanks, Ro. But… can you?”

“Excuse me, Mr. Reyes.  _May_  I make an assumption?”

“…yes.”

“Do I have to, though?” Virgil grunted, Roman took it as a no, and they just sat there, next to the piano, doing nothing.

Virgil was lucky to have Roman in his life and he knew it.

“I heard Sloane has a boyfriend now.” Virgil grunted again. “Don’t you miss Sloane?”

“Saw him last week.”

“Really? Where?”

“Can’t tell you. But I saw him. His boyfriend seems nice. Super short, but that’s no room for judgment.”

“Speak for yourself, string bean.”

“No emo comment?”

“You’re not the only one tired, Virgil.”

Virgil ran into Sloane and his boyfriend Corbin as they left Emile’s office last week, when Virgil went to drop Patton off. They looked genuinely happy, and now had plans to meet for dinner, with Patton tagging along, next week. Possibly on Tuesday. Depending on Corbin.

Hopefully one day Virgil would have that with Roman too.

“We’re going to dinner next Tuesday. Wanna tag along?”

“Do you even have to ask?”

And then, their few moments of peace and calm were cut short.

“Excuse me, Mr. Sanders-Graham?” The tiny twerp with the glasses from yesterday -  _Logan, his name is Logan_  - stood at the entrance to the center, clutching several books. “I apologize for the hour, I understand that it is early.”

“Well, yeah, it’s nine in the morning!” The kid was taken aback by Virgil. Oh no… “Go home, be a normal kid! What are you doing up at nine in the morning?”

“I was up since six, sir-“

“I told you, call me Virgil.”

“I apologize for his behavior, my dear Logan,” Roman cut in, saving Virgil the further embarrassment. “Would you like to show me these books you have there?”

“You like astronomy too?”

“Well…” no. Roman didn’t like astronomy. He loved astrology, and hearing Virgil talk about astronomy, but he didn’t like the subject.

“Come on, kid. Let’s go over these and correct them.”

“Yes! Oh, sorry. That would be nice. Thank you.”

* * *

 

Patton asked Logan to come to the swings with him. And Logan could not refuse, because Patton was his only potential friend here in Gainesville by now. So… he had to go.

“My mom saw one of her johns last night,” Patton told him, looking at the ground as he pushed himself on the swing.

“One of her johns?”

“One of her clients. It’s no big deal, though. Virgil says that it is, but she’s had some of them since before I was born, so why would it be a big deal?”

Clients for what?

“So why are you telling me?”

“I don’t know. I just don’t have anything better to tell you.”

“Oh.” They sat there in silence for a few moments, and then, “clients for what?”

“I don’t know. Well, I do know, sorta, but Virgil and my uncle Emile don’t like talking about it.”

“Oh. Well, my mom is a linguistics professor. She used to work with the FBI.”

“Ooh, sounds fun!”

“Yeah… I guess. It’s like teaching in school, but in university.”

“Still sounds fun!” Patton started swinging for real now. He was so happy. Logan has no idea how anyone could be this happy. “One day I might be a teacher. I’m not smart enough for anything, and they say that those who can’t do, teach, and I don’t believe it’s true, because it can’t be true, teachers can do and so they teach, but I’m just not good for anything else so I might be a teacher. I don’t know yet.”

“That’s not true… you could be a therapist.”

“…I want to be. But I’m not good enough in school.”

“So I’ll help you.”

The blond stopped, digging his feet into the ground. And then looked at Logan, bright blue eyes behind dirty glasses, and squealed.

“You would do that?”

“Of course. That’s what friends do.”

Another squeal, and then Logan felt himself being tackled as his friend crushed him with a hug.

Yes. His friend. He has a friend.


End file.
